


Come Back to Me

by HappySeagullSorceress



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-13
Updated: 2020-12-13
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:34:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,841
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28046262
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HappySeagullSorceress/pseuds/HappySeagullSorceress
Summary: Just some gay shit. A  modern mix of each canon so I can fix that shit.
Relationships: Ben Hanscom/Beverly Marsh, Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier, Patricia Blum Uris/Stanley Uris
Kudos: 3





	Come Back to Me

**Author's Note:**

> So I’m truly picking and choosing from each iteration when it comes to this fic. I think an important one to point out is that in this fic Mike and Richie have functional families. I just want Mike to have a happy family like he did in the books because Mike deserves the world. I know this is a Reddie fic but is it really reddie if we don’t focus on the other losers? We know those bitches love their friends more than they love themselves. My writing is trash and I’ll try to sprinkle in these elements, you know like an actual writer, but honestly I just want this story MADE. Excuse the trashiness of it, I just suppose it’s meant to reflect the writer :)

The summer of ‘89 was one that would forever be burned into Mike’s memory, how disheartening he’d one day learn it wasn’t the same for the rest of the Losers. In quick succession he’d watch each of them pack up and leave him to graduate alone in a town that didn’t appreciate, or even know how much they had done for it. In his grief, he felt maybe they hadn’t done enough, and that’s why they were carried away. 

It was ironic that in his case, he was rooted in Derry for the exact reasons the others left. His family. They had built a sturdy household, and were able to almost thrive in a town against them. With all the misfortune to befall them it had made them grow closer, and in that, Mike understood lost children need an anchor. Something to help them return when they were ready to grow against the unyielding current. 

So he remained in Derry. He finished high school with top grades and offers paired with scholarships to multiple schools. His father even encouraged him to take them, but in the end he couldn’t. He instead decided to support the family farm and volunteer around town. Whatever odd job was bouncing around the town, he’d do that too. In a miraculous turn of events, the library offered him the chance to turn from volunteer to employee, and within a few years he himself became a librarian. He always laughed at that, a man with no actual qualifications becoming a head advisor. In a way it reinvigorated him, almost confirming he was doing the right thing. 

The years crept by, with each summer and its usual flooding causing unease. Ten years had passed since his last goodbye, and he watched as the names of his friends became uttered not just in his memory. In 2004 his father was diagnosed with cancer. It was in these final years time began to speed up, almost rushing towards a finish line. In this rush he began to research the entity that haunted his memory and the town. It’s presence still lingered, and he knew that was exactly the reason he couldn’t ever leave. In the spring of 2006, six weeks before his father died, his father told him the story of the Black Spot.

While time itself seemed to be passing by quickly, it was in the moments he would go visit his father things seemed to freeze. He didn’t like to admit it, but each step towards his father’s room made him want to stall and run away. He hated and, was almost, embarrassed by his father dying. His father was always a strong and lively man, but his inevitable death was mocking the man. It left a once plump face sullen, and a hardy voice turned to a whisper. Watching his father diminish, he felt ashamed, and in his head he feared that if Pennywise wasn’t dead, he’d come back to haunt him as his cancer riddled father, falling apart at the seams.

With resolve, Mike had decided that before his father was completely gone, he had to hear his history. The man had been in Derry for almost fifty years. Mike had already interviewed other Derry residents, and would have more time with the rest, but he felt in his gut that if he were to hear from his father, today had to be the day. 

His father would often change the subject if any part of the unsultry past was broached, but today he looked at him with a gleam in his eye.

“Well, something like it could have only happened in Derry. The conditions for such things have always been right here. You know that Mikey?”

Mike nodded, unable to break his father's eye contact. 

“It was the beginning of summer in ‘61, right before Civil Rights would really break through the country. I was at the army base here, and there was a nice little set of clubs for most of the army men to go to. Of course colored people weren’t allowed. To make sure none of the town was bothered, a little shed was made into a place for us to go on the weekends. Right where Memorial Park is, is where the Black Spot stood. It was real ugly, but Hallorann, Dick Hallorann, barely older than me, decided we could fix the place up. He’d even cook us meals in it once it became more than just a shed. With a few friends of mine we decided to play as a jazz band. Even if the floor was just dirt, it began to shape up. Soon there was a line outside that old shed come October.”

As he reminisced over its beginning he had sat up, grinning. With each detail he widened his arms as if showing off a lavish picture. But then his gaze dropped and he laid back onto the raised hospital bed.

“It wasn’t meant to last forever I suppose. One night in November, cold as hell, we’d be met with the warmth of the towns people. So warm it burned Mikey.”

“ I remember looking through a makeshift window we had made, and seeing a green packard pull up. Following it was a line of cars, and in each one a group of hooded men. All wearing those damn white sheets. Before we even knew it a torch flew through that window. And after that we heard a torch fly through the second. And soon the place was up in flames. People were screaming and stampeding. I got thrown to the floor and nearly killed from the chaos. It was Trev Dawson who managed to pull me from the ground. We watched as things fell apart. Makeshift walls were exploding and falling. Falling on people. One woman, her dress went up in flames before the wall came straight down on her. We didn’t know which way was up, it just felt like we were in the pits of Hell. Dick became the unofficial lead as he ran us towards the fire, something Trev hated, but, the thing with Dick was he knew just what to do Mikey. He said things with such certainty, and you looked into his eyes, it’s like he just knew. You understand that Mikey?”

Mike shuddered at that. He understood perfectly well. Out of his friends, he knew he’d follow Bill anywhere, all of them would, but the unwavering sense of knowing, that belonged to Stan. He’d catch it in little ways when they were in school. Stan always was able to guess when a pop quiz was going to be given, or who would win the latest football game. Small things he just seemed so certain in. Unwillingly he thought of that day in the club house, with Stan wondering whether they would still be friends. Stan was too certain for it all to be mere coincidence. 

“Dick had led us to our makeshift kitchen, and there was an unbroken window. He broke it down with a metal chair, and we all rushed through it. Laying outside trying to ease the burning in our lungs, all we heard was firecrackers and screams. That’s what it sounded like. The wood burning sounded like the Fourth of July. The smoke and fumes of burning gas irritated our eyes and while Trev and Dick held their palms to their watery eyes I turned to see cars driving away,and some of those men running into the woods. Almost thought they were ghosts if it weren’t for the shoes. And I saw…”

His father shook his head, shutting his eyes and squirming like he was having a nightmare. 

“What’d you see?”

His father exhaled, “and then we watched the place collapsing. It didn’t happen so quick. There were people still inside screaming, pounding against the walls that just wouldn’t break. Anyone who got out, came out covered in flames. I looked one woman in the eyes and I swear her lids were on fire. When it did finally collapse, was when the fire truck finally arrived. At that point the place had burned itself out, and the men could only count the bodies left behind.”

Mike stared at his father. He couldn’t help but wonder why his father got shaken up in a story already so morbid.

“What’d you see?”

“I told you”

“Please.”

“When I saw those men running, right over them, was a bird. It was the largest one I’ve ever seen, and it hov- no it floated over em. And I swear it turned to look at me. And just so I wouldn’t see it’s gaze, I turned to the frame of that window we just jumped through, and I saw - I saw your momma up in flames Mikey.” His father’s voice cracked, and he held his hands over his eyes.

Mike froze at his response. Goosebumps scattered his body and he felt tears of grief and fear well up in his eyes.

“It didn’t make sense. She wasn’t even in Derry. She was still up in Bangor. Her parents didn’t even let her out for dating yet. And when I saw her Mike, she was different. Mikey, in that moment I think I saw -“

Mike shook his head. He couldn’t imagine so many people burning, but he knew exaclty what his mothers screams sounded like. 

“I didn’t know Mikey that I was seeing the future in that moment. I just thought it was smoke and mirrors.”

“Why’d you tell me this?”

“It’s what you wanted to know ain’t it?”  
His father sighed, “Maybe I wanted to warn you Mikey. Derry, I might die here, but I don’t want the same for you. The question I’ll always have is why did you stay?”

His eyes become clear, and Mike wants to tell his father the truth. To share every secret he’s had to keep, and every fear. It’s too much to lay on a dying man.

“Because I have to”

His father nodded, eyes still clear. Maybe that answer was enough. The two share a smile before turning towards dry topics that eventually cause the older man to fall asleep. 

Mike documents his father’s story, trying his best to be removed from the account. He fails to keep composure as he adds a note to copy the newspaper from from 1980 detailing another fire. 

After his father died, Mike was thrown into a heavier drive in uncovering every detail about It. From Ben’s old research he found new leads, and ended up questioning half of Derry. From each story there was always another thread to be pulled, until without warning, he was met with a dead end. The last piece of information he had to investigate led to a Native American tribe that was nearly gone. The people left of the tribe weren’t exactly keen on allowing an outsider in on their rituals and history. 

In their obstinate refusal to share anything with him, he was stuck at a dead end for a year.


End file.
